Sweater Weather
by TheBrightestNight
Summary: Alt. click-bait title: Sir, that's My Emotional Support Lorge Sweater Luther's clothes start to go missing. It's not a ghost.


He didn't really notice it at first.

Luther woke up to the sound of his alarm, shut it off, got up, got dressed, and got ready for the day. These days he liked routine. It was something stable, something safe, something he knew.

Anyway, he began noticing on the third day, when he reached into his closet for one of his jackets and realized he had two less than before. At least he thought so.

So he stood there, eyebrows furrowed, counting the jackets he had, the hangers empty, and the last time he did laundry. He was generally good at math—he'd done research on the moon for fuck's sake—but his math wasn't adding up. Frowning, he grabbed his jacket anyway, shrugged it on, and closed his closet.

Maybe he was just tired.

But then it happened again with his sweaters the next day. As he was getting dressed, he reached into his dresser drawer for a sweater and realized there were at least three less sweaters than before. And, again, he stood there counting the sweaters he had and the last time he'd done laundry. And, once again, his math was _not_ adding up. Frowning, he grabbed his sweater anyway, slipped it on, and went to put on his jacket.

Maybe he _had_ done his math wrong. By some strange occurrence. It was rare, but it did happen. Though, not with such simple math.

Still, he would wait until his next laundry cycle and count to know for sure. He was too busy to go through his hamper right now.

As it turns out, Luther didn't have to wait. In the same week, before laundry day, his gloves-to-sweater-to-jacket ratio was mismatched and he didn't like it.

Frowning deeply now, Luther opened his door, ready to track down his siblings and demand he tell them what kind of prank they were playing. It was harmless, but he liked his routine, and he liked to have his clothes orderly. He didn't like mismatched ratios.

Luther didn't have to go far. As soon as he swung open his door, Allison exited her room, arms swinging in too-long sleeves.

_That's my jacket,_ was the first thing that crossed Luther's mind. His annoyance simmered down a little.

Carefully, he stepped through the doorway, quickly catching up to Allison.

"Cold?" he asked, trying to keep his voice nonchalant.

Allison looked up at him as they fell into step and said, "Yeah. Ben and Klaus broke the center heating, remember?"

Luther did remember. Klaus had pulled Ben into one of his hijinks and they'd ended up taking out the entire mansion's central heating. In the middle of winter. Of course, Luther didn't really notice because of his size. Wearing his gloves, sweater, and jacket helped.

"That's my jacket," Luther finally said, not sure what else to say or how to approach this tactfully.

"It's big and warm." Allison said, as if that was all the explanation Luther needed. Then she froze and seemed to realize something. "You don't mind do you?" Her voice was hesitant, her face apologetic. "I didn't think you'd mind. Or miss one jacket."

But it wasn't just one jacket now, was it?

"No, I don't mind," Luther told her, smiling as reassurance. Allison visibly relaxed and smiled back.

"Okay, thanks."

They'd gotten to the payphone now, where Allison stopped. Luther smiled again and nodded politely, walking past her to find his other siblings. Okay, so Allison had taken one of his jackets because it was cold. That made sense. But that didn't explain why so many of his other clothes were missing.

There was noise coming from the grand living room (as Luther liked to refer to it as), so he followed it. As he stepped in he began saying, "Hey guys, have you seen any of my—" but broke off when he saw Klaus and Diego sitting on one of the couches facing each other and having a slap-fight. Except they were swinging their too-long sweater sleeves at each other, rather than their hands.

The other thing that made Luther stop midsentence was the fact that they both had pulled their knees up to their chests and then pulled the sweater over their knees and legs, tucking them neatly under their toes.

A fire roared in the fireplace.

Klaus and Diego looked up from their fight when Luther came in. For a moment, they all stared at each other in silence.

Then Diego was on his feet, the sweater looking like a dress on him.

Klaus complained, "Aw, Diego! You can't just quit like that!"

"You tell anyone about this, swear to fucking god, Luther," Diego began, pointing his finger at his brother.

Luther couldn't take him seriously though. The sleeves were still engulfing Diego's arms, and Diego had no time to roll them up, so Luther only saw an outline of Diego's finger, leaving the rest of the sleeve to limply hang from there. It was comical because of how serious Diego was trying to be, and Luther had to suppress his smile and giggles lest Diego start throwing knives at him. Again.

Instead, Luther held up his hands. "I didn't see anything."

Before Diego could say anything else, Luther turned and left, heading downstairs. That counted for two of his sweaters.

As Luther left, he could hear Klaus and Diego talking:

"You forfeited, man, does this mean I win?" Klaus asked.

"You wish." Diego responded.

Luther was out of earshot after that.

Downstairs, in the kitchen, he found out where another two jackets and a sweater had disappeared to.

The first thing he saw was Ben, who had accessed that tentacle creature from the other dimension and was now using it was wash and dry the dishes. It was impressive, seeing as he could just stand in one place and in ten minutes or so have done the dishes for all his siblings. The effect was ruined, however, because Ben was in one of Luther's sweaters and was waving his arms and the too-long sleeves around as if they were also tentacles (though, tentacles that didn't do much).

Ignoring that for now, Luther continued his sweep of the kitchen and saw Five and Vanya sitting at the kitchen table. They both had steaming cups of coffee in front of them. Five was curled up in the chair, one of Luther's jackets wrapped around his shoulders. His legs were pulled up to his chest, the front of the jacket buttoned up, except the two top ones, which allowed Five's arms to hold his mug without pushing the jacket off his shoulders. Five's eyes looked dead inside and his hair disheveled. He was probably fed up with being cold, but it was also morning. Luther found that Five was more of a person after his morning coffee.

Vanya looked happier than Five, swaddled in Luther's jacket. She had her arms through the sleeves, but hadn't bothered to pull her hands through, content with holding her mug with the sleeves of the jacket. She, too, had pulled her legs up and buttoned up the jacket.

Vanya looked up when Luther entered and smiled.

"Those are mine," he said, again not sure what to say or how to go about it.

"It's warmer than any of my jackets," Vanya responded. Ben and Five either ignored or didn't seem to have heard Luther. "Besides, Allison started it."

That was good. Luther could never be angry at Allison. Not that he was particularly angry at any of his siblings for stealing his clothes, more amused than anything because of how ridiculous everyone looked wearing his stuff. A heads-up would've been nice though. He thought he'd been going crazy—he knew he was good at math!

Luther nodded and headed back upstairs without another word, wondering where the last of his clothes had gone. That'd accounted for most of them, but not all of them.

Guess it was time to visit the tailor again.

* * *

**A prompt that my friend sent me for Luther. Is probably been done, but I've been in a writing slump since finishing grad school, so I'm trying to get back into it. And, as you can see, I've decided to write little ficlets for TUA (and some others) to help with that!**

**For some reason, when I first brainstormed this, I pictured Luther as one of those people who has multiples of the same thing, also that he's very, **_**very**_** organized. So I ran with it. I also imagine, because Luther's so big, that he has to get his clothes tailor-made if they're going to even have a chance of fitting him properly.**

**Some of this may not be quite in character, but pretend that they've all been going to therapy and are becoming all the better for it. (Diego is a HUGE dork, don't at me) Additionally, Pogo and Grace are the last two who've stolen from him lol (even if Grace might not technically need it).**

**Hope you enjoyed! Comments are much appreciate! ^_^**

**Thank you for reading,  
****TheBrightestNight**


End file.
